Archive for May, 2011

Jennifer and I were co-workers. One day during a moment of downtime, Jennifer confessed to having a crush on one of the managers, Shane, but made me swear to not breath a word to anyone. I agreed. This was a delicate issue and would need to handled as such. What if word got out? What if Shane didn’t feel the same? Life at work had the potential of becoming very awkward. So absolutely, this information must remain on the DL until we could formulate the perfect way of uncovering if Shane was in fact crushing on Jennifer too.

Enter Marc-Keith, another co-worker Jennifer had let in on her secret. Marc-Keith decided to do a little “subtle” digging in the hopes of verbally trapping Shane into disclosing his thoughts on Jennifer. But for some reason in guy language, “subtle” doesn’t hold quite the same meaning and Marc-Keith just came right out and told Shane that Jennifer liked him and wanted to know if he could pass on his number. Jennifer and I almost died. This is not how we wanted it handled, we were hoping for something a little more high-school and immature, but here we were with our necks, feelings, self esteem and pride on the line. Given the situation Jennifer showed more courage than I ever could, she took the next step and called Shane. A few days later they were on their first date. And 5 years later, they are in the throws of planning their perfect wedding in Savannah, Georgia later this year. I was so excited when Jennifer contacted me to tell me Shane had proposed, but I was even more excited and honored when she asked if I would be their photographer. I couldn’t be happier for them both, I feel like I have been a small part of of their journey as a couple and now I get to document one of the biggest days of their lives and I can’t wait.

For their engagement session we headed to Gillsville, Ga, where Shane grew up and his mom still lives.

And what better way to start the session than with a little kissy action.

Workin it.

The cows were so curious about what was going on, they couldn’t resist coming over to check it out.

The light, the girl, the couple, stunning.

A stolen country moment.

A big shout out has to go to Shane. His allergies were driving him crazy but he toughed it out for the 5 minutes I needed to get the next few shots. And I am grateful.

The bling.

Shane was not to be out done in the “workin it” department.

While I was getting Jennifer in position for a few more shots, Shane couldn’t resist giving her a cheeky pinch on the derrière. Jennifer was not impressed, but Shane made it all right with a kiss and a toss over the shoulder.

And the engagement session would not be complete without a couple of photos of their dog, Duke.

Manson hates Crookie. His boundless energy, his sudden puppy like moves, his intense curiosity and his blatant disrespect for personal space drives Manson insane. And the fact that Crookie’s a pitbull matters not one bit to Manson, he will still get in his face, chase him around the room or climb to the highest point he can find to bark his anger and frustration at Crookie’s adolescent annoyance. Manson is your quintessential old man, who wants nothing more than a peaceful life, void of disrespectful, inconsiderate puppies. Due to his recent illness however, little Manson has not been displaying the same level of desire in scolding Crookie, instead he just lays there, unresponsive to the chaos, and it makes me sad. Or DID make me sad. Yesterday as I busied myself in the kitchen, Crookie came bounding up the stairs in his usual bull in china shop manner. Mason who had been sleeping quietly on the couch, heard the commotion and immediately jumped up and began yelling in the direction Crookie had just come. I couldn’t believe it. There was my little Manson, hostile and grumpy and yelling at the world, just like his old self and I couldn’t have been happier. Not only that, but his eating is so much better and his energy is slowly starting to come back. Things are definitely looking up. My little monster appears to be well on his way to recovery. He has to be the toughest little guy I know, seriously.

And because blog posts with photos are way more interesting and fun, here is a little peak at an engagement session I shot this week. I’ll be blogging more photos over the next couple of days.

It often happens that I don’t have anything to blog about. Nothing. Like today. I wanted to sit down and share something deep and insightful, cool and funny with the world, or the 3 people who read my blog (thanks dad, Edward and Shots. Yes Shots, I just called you out, I know you secretly stalk me). But I was blocked in the worst way. Absolutely no creativity. As a result I’m just gonna go ahead and hit y’all with a blog full of randomness. Here goes:

* I think I’m over the color pink. It was obviously just a phase. Time for some rebranding I’d say.

* Tonight for dinner I plan to cook Italian with plenty of garlic, tons of it, so my breath will be epic enough to repel an entire brigade of vampires, and more than likely a husband.

* I have an unhealthy addiction to bookstores. True I love to read, but its more than that, its the smell of the books, the pages the print. Can you say junkie?

* Random memory, my mother saved all my baby teeth, is that weird? Do we need to have a conversation?

* The husband and I have no idea what our home phone number is. It came as part of the internet and TV package. When it rings we pause, wonder what in the world that noise is, realize we do in fact have a home phone, then we shrug and carry on like nothing happened.

*President Obama apparently wants the ability to send out mass text messages should we find ourselves in the throws of a terrorist threat. People are mad at the potential invasion of privacy. I, on the other hand, think its great and am looking forward to waking up Sunday morning to a barrage of drunkin texts sent by Mr. Obama from a late night rave at the Oval Office.

* Damn you ant bites. I shake an angry fist at the extreme itchiness.

Random photos: I was never sure if this sign was a sad little horse or a donkey. Turns out its a donkey and there’s a miniature donkey farm not far from our house, who knew?

Just eat better. Thats what I told myself as I headed into today, the final day of the weekend. For the past 2 days I’ve basically survived on nothing but fudge, I kid you not, excellent fudge, but still, fudge. Having spent the weekend traveling the deep south of Georgia, first to Savannah, where I helped my friend Tessa shoot the engagement session of an adorable couple, Nicole and Josh, and where I incidentally picked up my 2 lbs of fudge. Then it was onto Statesboro for the stunning rustic themed wedding of the equally stunning Crystal and Hunter. A full steam ahead weekend of driving and shooting, driving and shooting. Not to be confused with drive by shooting though, which is a whole other beast entirely. So with little opportunity to squeeze in any kind of civilized meal adhering to the FDA’s suggested food pyramid, fudge became the go-to stable. I’m not proud of it, in fact, I feel kinda gross, so as I drove home late last night I made the proclamation to Just Eat Better. Which was all very empowering until I arrived back to my house and discovered a package, shipped all the way from Ireland by my best friend Scratcher to help cheer me up. I’d boo-hoo’d to Scratcher a few days previously about the situation with little Manson and being the amazing friend that she is, Scratcher put together a little care pack to give me a small taste of home. My care pack was packed full of Irish newspapers, magazines and chocolate. Oh yes, chocolate. Which meant the Just Eat Better campaign, was already off to a bad start and would now need to be rescheduled to a day where there was no chocolate left. To a day I had polished off the last of the 3 gynormous bars and the fancy Easter Egg. So basically, tomorrow.

My care pack arrived looking like the postal service had kicked it all the way from Dublin, Ireland to Atlanta, Georgia. But somehow, my chocolate remained intact, praise Jesus.

I haven’t bought an album in years, like not since Madonna’s True Bluecame out way back when, and let em tell you, I wore this album out on both my tape deck and walkman. I even had her badly back-combed hair and a right arm full of jelly bracelets. And don’t even get me started on the highly choreographed dance routines my friends and I pounded out in my bedroom, complete with hairbrush microphone. Bare in mind that I can’t even sing, not a note and the idea of ever having to sing in public, terrifies to the core. If you ever want to make me cry, tell me to sing, in front of people. There does however appear to be 1 exception to my rule of singing terror and that is of course alcohol. Throw a few beverages into the system and watch as I storm the stage and pry the microphone out of any karaoke singer’s hands. For some reason my drunk self truly believes she has the pipes of Aretha Franklin, Beyonce Knowles or Christina Aguilera. Apparently there is no song you can throw at her that she cannot sing. Its a visual and audible mess.

But recently I’ve come across a singer who has not just compelled me to download a full album, instead of merely picking and choosing the songs I want, but she also has me flirting with the idea of starting a 3 pack a day smoking habit in an effort to emulate the raspy powerful voice, and that is ADELE. If you haven’t checked this lady out, and I can’t think why you haven’t, she’s all over the radio these days, then do it. She’s one of my new favorite things and if I’m ever let loose in a karaoke bar again, fully expect to see my drunk self belting out a little Rolling in the Deep, bourbon in one hand style, Virginia Slim in the other. If you listen to her music, it will all make sense.